Get a Little, Give a Little

Well, life gives you some nice surprises and then life gives you the little bumps in the road.
I had a very happy accident happen to me this morning and a not so happy one this afternoon.
I just found out that it is going to cost a bundle of money to fix our car. And, you know, it's not even running badly. It just makes a putt-putt sound from what we assumed was a simple little exhaust leak. But I insisted that we take the car in and have a real mechanic look at it. Why is it that "real" mechanics cost so much.
Oh well, you get a little and then apparently you have to give some of that back. Life seems to even itself out, doesn't it? My mantra is It could be worse!!

Serendipity

I LOVE happy accidents, it's like something that was meant to be.
I've been missing my family a lot lately, my parents, my sisters, and my only brother. You know how sometimes you start thinking about all the times you got to spend together? The holidays that you shared and the good times that you enjoyed. Well, I miss that.
But this morning, at around 7:30am my cell phone rang. It was in my purse, which usually it's not, so I had a hard time finding it. By the time I found it the phone had stopped ringing. So when I look to see who called, it was my brother.
Now, when certain members of my family call I start to worry that there is something wrong because only certain ones call. So when I saw my brothers name I called back right away.
He was on his way to class, he's a teacher, when he accidentaly pocket dialed me. I love when that happens, at least you know that they have your phone number in there cell phone addresses. But we got to talk for just a couple of minutes and connect back with each other.
I felt like that was serendipity, just a happy accident. I love when that happens!

My Own Private Bathroom

A while back I read the book, The Help by Kathryn Stockett. It was a wonderful book. Last week my daughter and I went and saw the movie and while it was good it wasn't as good as the book. But that seems to be the case most often.

I was a child of the 50's and 60's and I'm ashamed to say that I was not as aware as I should have been about the civil rights movement. This book and movie started me thinking again about things that I think about often. Why do we, as human beings, treat each other the way we do? I don't think I have ever been prejudiced against anybody regardless of race, religion, weight, appearance or anything else. That's the way I was raised and I'm grateful for that everyday of my life.

But...the bathroom scene in the book and the movie where a white woman campaigns for every household to have their own separate bathroom for their "help". That got me thinking.

I HATE public restrooms, I can't tell you how much I hate them. I do not even like bathrooms in other peoples homes, no matter how clean they appear. I refuse to sit on any toilet seat that someones else's bum has touched (except my husband, even then.....).

The other day we had someone here doing some work for us, he marched right in and used the guest bathroom. I admit, even , to locking the door so he wouldn't use it, I was going to say that I was cleaning the floor and it was still wet. But somehow he seemed to know where the key was. I know, that is awful, but it seems that I just can't help myself.

Well that was two days ago and I hadn't cleaned it before now because this worker was going to come back and do some more work. And you know, he'd probably have to use the bathroom again, yuck. So, of course, I haven't used that bathroom either. If anyone else wants to use it that's completely up to them, they may not have the same phobia that I do.

So I cleaned the guest bathroom this morning, lysoled it, bleached it and scrubbed everywhere. I feel like I can use it now without being grossed out.

You don't have to tell me that this phobia is a terrible thing to have. And it's not that I don't like these people who feel they must use my bathroom. It's just that I don't like the thought of their bare bums sitting on something that I put my bare bum on. Totally gross!

Nick, The Painter?

This is way to good to keep to myself. Every time I think about this I laugh out loud, I even shared it with my 10 year old grandson; however he didn't really get the humor in the story. Hope you will!

I have to preface the funny part with a little soap opera history. When I was a young stay at home mom I watched a couple of different soap operas but my very favorite was All My Children. It was totally different than I imagine it is today. Erica was a young, newly married woman. Now the story is about who her first husband was, Nick. If I remember correctly (and I wouldn't place any bets) Nick and Erica were high school sweethearts. Sometime after graduation Nick became a police officer. I can't remember what happened to him but like all of Erica's other husbands, she divorced Nick.

Nick must have been totally devastated because he ended up here in Tehachapi. Now he obviously didn't retire on his earnings from the soaps because here in real land he is a house painter. Don't get me wrong, I love house painters. My husband is a house painter (the best ever, I might add).

We would see Nick The Painter (that was the name I gave him when he first came to town and I saw and recognized him) around town, mostly at Home For Less, our local discount paint and hardware store. Well, I was in Home For Less doing a errand for my Husband The Painter.
Nick was in the store buying a very small artists brush. When the clerk asked him what he needed it for, because we all know it would take a little long to paint a house with that, he showed a mixture of embarrassment and pride. He replied that he had just finished painting a woman's house and she wanted him to autograph it for her. Funny, right? That's not even the story that I'm getting to, although I do think that is pretty hilarious.

So here's the story. I'm at home today cleaning floors and doing all that fun house stuff when the phone rings. It is Steve. I'm not surprised because he calls me several times throughout the day, sometimes just to tell me how his day is going, sometimes to complain about a couple of certain workers who are fodder for a whole other blog and sometimes just to say hi. This time he is laughing as I pick up the phone so I know this is going to be good.

He tells me that there are a lot of guys around who are wearing shirts that say Nick the Painter on them. Now that is a little odd because Nick works alone. Here's where it gets good, maybe only to me because I feel like I am the reality TV queen....love it!! Nick is doing a reality TV show. Guess what it's called. Yup, Nick the Painter. Is that great or what?

I told Steve that I think I'm going to call Nick and ask for an estimate on painting our house so I can be on TV. So watch for me next season, I'm guessing, on Spike TV maybe. Who knows.

No More Facebook For Me

Yup, that's what I said. NO MORE FACEBOOK FOR ME! It's not that I think that facebook is bad, at least maybe not for other people. But I have come to the conclusions that my life is unexciting enough without reading about what someone is doing every second of their day. No offense to anyone on Facebook, but I really don't care that you are sitting in your car at the stop light on the corner of Green St. and Maple Ave. I can go out and do that all day long and it still fails to excite me, sorry.

It seems that all of my old high school friends who were once on Facebook have come to the same conclusion that I have; we have better things to do with our time than to live vicariously through your lives, astounding as they may be. Maybe we are just getting to that stage in life where we are realizing that our time is limited and maybe we should go and do instead of sit and look through the windows of your facebook postings.

The other thing is, and my grown children will attest to this, the computer is not my friend. We are merely acquaintances with a love-hate relationship. I do love my email even though most of it comes in the form of offers for weight loss pills or offers to share a newly acquired fortune if I would just send them $1,ooo.00. All of these emails I simply delete because it's much easier than figuring out how to block it. I told you.....love-hate.

Shopping is another thing I did really well on the computer. But in recent years my pocketbook dictated a change in my spending habits, I've had to curb my enthusiasm for internet shopping. It's too bad too because the UPS guy, Phil, and I had become good friends. Now he doesn't call, he doesn't write, he doesn't even stop by anymore; all because he has no packages for me. Talk about fair weather friends, huh?

Oh yeah, back to Facebook. Like I said, you won't find me there anymore. I am trying to get a revival going of letter writing. So far no one has written me back, oh well. So, if you have need to get a hold of me, yes, you can write me a letter, or you can email me (I promise not to delete you). And, you will love this one, there is the coolest little thing that you can hold in your hand, and if you punch in the correct sequence of numbers you will hear me say "hello", that is if caller ID tells me that it's someone I want to talk to.

"See Janie Say a Bad Word"

Rachel had an appointment in Bakersfield yesterday so I went along for the ride and to keep Janie company while Rachel was taking care of her appointment. I'm always up for a trip to Bakersfield. Yes, my life is really that dull.

While Rachel was inside taking care of one of her appointments Janie and I were in the waiting room, waiting. In the waiting room with us were two small hispanic boys, one looked as if he was about Janies age. They were talking and having a good time when I noticed that the little guy kept touching and stoking Janies hair. It's red and beautiful and it is hard to resist. His brother saw that I had noticed his brother's hair fetish and tells me "my brother likes hair". Okay. Maybe you had to be there, but it really was funny.

Well, we say goodbye to hair fetish boy and his brother and leave for another appointment. This time, since it was only going to take a few minutes, Janie and I decided to stay in the car.

This was our conversation:

Janie: I'm going to say a bad word

Grandma: No you aren't

Janie: Yes, I am. I'm going to say a bad word.

Grandma: You are not going to say a bad word.

Janie: Actually, Grandma, I am going to say a bad word.

So she proceeded to say her "bad word"

Janie: Oh my gosh. I told you!

She is not supposed to use that expression so she thinks it is a bad word. I really hope that that is the only "bad word" that ever crosses her lips. So now I have vowed not to say my bad word (at least in front of Janie)........Oh crap I just knocked over my glass. It's okay, Janie's not here.

Old and Harmless

Apparently although I am "old",I am harmless. This is according to my 9year old grandson. This is how I came to this particular knowledge.

I pick Tylor up from the bus stop, this is about a half an hour after Steve picks up Trenton when he gets off of the middle school bus. As I was waiting for the bus to come I noticed a young boy sitting on a bunch of rocks not far from where I parked my car. He looked to be about 12 or 13, somewhere around there and just looked sad. I kept watching, hoping that someone was coming to pick him up.

Ty's bus came and he climbed in the car and usually I am one of the first cars out of the parking lot. This time, however, I waited until everyone was gone and pulled up next to the the boy and asked if someone was coming for him. He gave a me some sort of vague answer so I asked him if he wanted a ride home. He very eagerly accepted.I took him home. Thank goodness he didn't have to walk because it was quite the drive. It was way to far for him to walk and Ty could hardly wait to tell Grandpa about his little adventure.

Well, I felt a little like a good Samaritan but I was even more relieved that this kid got home okay. As Ty and I were driving home from our little adventure I mentioned to Ty that I was a little surprised that this boy accepted a ride home with a perfect stranger.

Now here is the reason that I related this story. Tylor looks at me and says, "Grandma, I am not trying to be offensive, but.....you are old and kids just think that old people are harmless".